


Draw

by Khateeah



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bad Decisions, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Dom/sub, Gun Kink, Gunplay, M/M, Masochism, Mental Breakdown, Object Insertion, Oral Sex, Psychological Trauma, Scene Gone Wrong, Shame, Subspace, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8266009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khateeah/pseuds/Khateeah
Summary: Hanzo has an unhealthy fondness for Jesse's gun.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE thank you to [inkatheart.tumblr.com](http://inkatheart.tumblr.com) for the fantastic beta!

Hanzo never liked guns.

Practically speaking, he understood well that they were an indispensable tool in a trade that dealt in life and death. And, like all Shimada men, he'd trained with them since he was a boy - handguns, mostly, but he was a good shot with a rifle in a pinch. It was a hard and fast rule at Shimada Castle, a routine expectation that everyone in their service be instructed in the use of a firearm - the men doubly so. And just as one removed their shoes upon entering the castle, one was expected to carry a gun concealed on their person when they left.

Hanzo loathed the requirement. Firearms were the antithesis of stealth, loud and obtrusive even when silenced. Unwieldy devices befitting only of amateurs: men who could not master the art of delivering a silent death.

That was exactly how he'd assessed Jesse McCree the moment he laid eyed on the man. Tall and gruff with a trademark swagger all his own, McCree was a laughable sight, a figure straight out of the American Western parodies of his youth. Even the man's personality seemed to match his image to a tee - on his face, McCree was irreverent and blunt and cloyingly charming, his thick accent lending a smooth rhythm to his words that could cut a person to the bone one moment and slather them in honey in the next. That was one area, at least, in which Hanzo couldn't fault him. Jesse's tongue was sharp, yet his manners rivaled those of the Japanese.

But it hadn't been Jesse's tongue that had grabbed Hanzo's attention - and ultimately, his heart.

Hanzo had never seen a revolver in action before. He quickly discovered, however, that of all the varieties of handgun, it was certainly the loudest. Hanzo thought it was befitting of a man like Jesse McCree.

On the first mission they'd been assigned together, Hanzo had heard Peacekeeper before he saw her - shot after shot exploding in the distance, veritable cannon blasts that nearly knocked him off his feet. Each burst of sound rang deafening in his ears as the blasts ricocheted one by one down the corridor he'd been sprinting through when gunfire erupted.

But it was what Hanzo saw when he found his partner at last that took his breath away.

It happened in slow motion. Hanzo skidded to a halt through the sliding doors leading out of the laboratory they'd infiltrated. There he saw Jesse, standing tall, his stance wide and sure as his hand snapped to the holster on his hip. In one smooth motion, Jesse drew out his weapon by her trigger guard with a single finger. She spun as he drew, so quick she appeared as nothing more a golden halo circling his hand, gleaming in the light of the setting sun. Then without warning she stopped, locked and aimed from chest height, and Jesse's other hand was already there, wailing on her hammer as six deafening shots rang out through the dewy summer haze.

Then it was silent, and not a split second later, six bodies thudded onto the scorching asphalt. Jesse McCree, the cowboy, callous and uncouth, had just taken out six heavily armed elite guards in the most artfully efficient display of combat he'd ever seen.

He hadn't simply fallen in love with Jesse that day. It was that damn gun of his too.

And Jesse knew it.

***

“On your knees.”

Hanzo dropped at once, indignant amber eyes staring from beneath heavy creased brows down Peacekeeper’s barrel. He struggled to control his breathing, keeping it slow and steady as a thin sheen of sweat broke over his forehead. The weapon commanded his attention in a way nothing else could - even unloaded and dry-fired in front of him as it'd been - and it had him throbbing in his pants, a wet spot already forming at the front of his jeans.

“Open your mouth.”

He did, and Jesse languidly dragged the cold, oily edge of the barrel over Hanzo’s parted lips, a soft smile on the cowboy's face that Hanzo thought erred on the side of arrogance.

“Wider.”

Hanzo’s eyes fluttered shut at the first taste of smooth metal against his tongue. The barrel was wide, wider than he'd expected, and the way it stretched his jaw made him whimper, his cock twitching against the tight confines of his pants. A calloused hand slid under Hanzo's chin, and the archer looked lovingly up through hazy, half-lidded eyes. Jesse smiled. He'd seen that look before. Carefully, he pulled Peacekeeper back before pushing forward again, pumping the weapon into Hanzo's mouth with slow, gentle strokes.

“Mm, you love it, don't you?” Jesse drawled, and Hanzo nodded as well as he could, the pink flush on his cheeks darkening to a deep, dusky rose.

Hanzo embraced the pleasure, and the heady sense of shame that inevitably came along with it. He swallowed hard around the barrel, welcoming the feeling like an old friend. Sinking into his personal sea of old, repressed emotions, Hanzo’s eyes fell shut as he immersed himself in the forlorn darkness he knew so well. But it was alright. It was fine. Because Jesse's gun was in his mouth, anchoring him so intimately to his one true escape: submitting totally to his lover’s will.

All Jesse needed to do was pull the trigger, and he'd be dead.

He wouldn't _really_ be dead, of course - but in those moments it was the illusion that mattered. The fantasy of knowing his fate was held entirely in his lover’s hands, one twitch of Jesse’s finger and his sins would be atoned for once and for all. Jesse _was_ a killer, after all. Just like Hanzo was. It would be fitting for Jesse to take his life - the man he loved more than all else, cutting his life short, just as he'd done to--

“Tell you what, sweetheart, how ‘bout we get you out of those jeans?” Jesse withdrew the gun from Hanzo's mouth, spinning it on his finger before dropping it back in its holster. Hanzo averted his eyes as his hands methodically obeyed, wriggling out of the stiff, too-tight fabric of his jeans and his boxer-briefs and tossing them quickly aside. Jesse made to unfasten his belt, but Hanzo stopped him.

“Jesse. I want you to… I want it in me,” Hanzo ran his fingers lightly, reverently, over the butt of the gun at Jesse's hip as his heart pounded in his chest. As if sucking off his gun wasn't enough of a bad idea, now he was asking Jesse to fuck him with it. But it was too late to turn back now, and Hanzo met Jesse's gaze with fiery, intense need in his eyes.

“Hanzo, honey-- the shape’s all wrong, she'll never fit--”

“ _Please_ ,” Hanzo breathed, relieved that the weapon’s size seemed to be Jesse's only objection.

“Look, you know I can't tell ya ‘no,’ but you're gonna need some prep--”

Jesse was silenced in an instant by a loud moan torn straight from the depths of Hanzo's throat. The archer was up on his knees, spine arched in a beautiful bow as he ground himself back on his own fingers. His other hand was on his chest, pushing up his t-shirt to reveal the taut swells of muscle below, capped by the dark, perky points of his nipples.

“Lord almighty…” Jesse muttered as he blindly fished for the bottle of oil in his pocket. This man, this yakuza son of a gun, knew exactly what he was doing - he had Jesse's buttons mapped out perfectly, had the knowledge of how and when and where to press them down to a damn science. And truth be told, Jesse didn't mind one bit.

The cowboy surged forward, lips attacking Hanzo's neck, his hat tumbling off and forgotten in a heartbeat as he moved with the archer. Hanzo had fit three inside himself already, and was adding a fourth when he felt Jesse's hand sliding over the jut of his hipbone and into his crack, inspecting his handiwork with eager curiosity. He was only a little surprised to find his lover stretched so far so quickly - he knew Hanzo loved the way it felt, loved pushing himself to take more, faster, deeper…

“Jesse…” Hanzo whispered breathlessly against Jesse's hair. “I need it, I--”

“Shh. Turn around.”

Hanzo spun and dropped to his elbows. One generous squirt of oil later, Jesse's fingers had replaced his own, twisting and stretching the tight ring of muscle between his cheeks. To Hanzo's credit, he was already well prepared - but Jesse knew what the archer was asking of him would take a little more care than he usually required.

Jesse leaned forward against Hanzo’s back, laying gentle kisses down the length of his spine as his fingers continued to work. He added a third, then a fourth, pushing deeper until each digit disappeared to the last knuckle. Hanzo was quiet, mostly, save for the occasional gasp each time Jesse’s fingers brushed against that sweet spot deep inside him.

A few long moments passed that way, with Jesse draped over his lover, whispering gentle encouragements against the shell of Hanzo’s ear. Hanzo simply soaked it up, basking in the way Jesse’s words drew him gently but surely towards delirium, lost in his sweet surrender.

“I’m-- I’m ready,” Hanzo managed to gasp at last. Jesse pressed one last kiss against his hair before pulling back, carefully withdrawing his fingers from Hanzo’s heat.

“Good, you just keep on relaxin’ for me, darlin’,” Jesse cooed, squeezing more oil onto his fingers before drawing Peacekeeper from her holster, coating the barrel with the slick fluid. “Now, I’m gonna use my fingers to work her in, and you tell me if you need me to slow down, alright?”

Hanzo nodded, and Jesse easily slipped two fingers back into his lover, scissoring them apart before bringing the edge of the gun’s barrel to rest beneath his first knuckle. Drawing a deep breath, he pushed forward gently, and Hanzo’s eyes fluttered shut with a gasp at the first touch of cool metal against his skin.

“That’s it… good…” The thick ridge of Peacekeeper’s sights slipped past Hanzo’s rim, and Jesse withdrew his fingers, biting his lip as he watched Hanzo’s body close tight around the barrel of his gun. Hanzo shuddered, his breath quickening as his head dropped to rest against the ground.

The stretch was painful, but Hanzo didn't want it any other way. He relished the burn; the way the smooth, hard metal opened him so completely, so different than anything he'd ever felt before. It felt alien, the way each ridge and contour teased and tantalized his nerves, flaying him open inch by dangerous inch.

Jesse, for his part, had never seen anything so profoundly hot in his life. Awestruck and lost in his task, he hardly registered the aching press of his own cock, forgotten as it twitched and strained against his pants.

He nearly came in his pants when Hanzo thrust back without warning, forcing the gun deeper until the cylinder rested flush against his sore, stretched hole.

“C-careful there, sweetheart--”

“Do it. Fuck me. Please.” The pleading look Hanzo cast over his shoulder had Jesse melting where he sat. He sighed as his heart fluttered in his chest - he never could manage to resist that look. With flushed cheeks and that wild, unbound hair, Hanzo was a breathtaking sight to behold, the very picture of wanton desperation. And God, Jesse loved him this way, the archer’s usual calm, cool facade all but forgotten, wilfully abandoned to Jesse's control.

“Your wish is my command,” Jesse drawled with a chuckle, a wry smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His free hand found the firm swell of Hanzo's ass, thumb smoothing over soft skin as he pulled Peacekeeper back. A low, contented sound rumbled in Jesse's throat, watching the way Hanzo's body clung to the slick metal sunk deep in his flesh.

Jesse worked Peacekeeper into a slow, gentle rhythm, and it didn't take long for him to coax a string of soft moans from Hanzo's lips. The cold metal had warmed quickly to match the temperature inside his body, and judging from the way his insides gripped each bump and curve of the gun, the archer could have sworn it had become a part of him - he was one with the weapon, just as Jesse was when he wielded her as if she were an extension of himself.

Then, the barrel twisted, and Hanzo saw stars.

Even the slightest change in angle had him feeling like he'd been ripped apart, forced wide open to accommodate the hefty flare of the sights atop the muzzle of the gun. It was so strange, so different compared to the warm, pulsing girth of a cock - all rock-hard edges and angles prodding and stretching him deeper than he ever could have imagined.

“J-Jesse…” Hanzo stuttered and opened his eyes, his glazed-over gaze fixed between his own legs. He vaguely noted the obscenely large puddle of clear, glistening slick that leaked from the tip of his cock onto the floor. Even untouched, he was so close already, driven nearly out of his mind by the euphoria brought on by the pain, coupled with the shame that continued to build in his mind. Perhaps it'd been that shame all along that had him begging to be sodomized with a weapon that could take his life in the blink of an eye.

_It would be a fitting death, no?_

Hanzo’s gut lurched at the thought. Familiar and cold, this brand of shame always sought to punish him. It never hesitated to gleefully remind him of his perpetual dishonor. And now, here on his knees before the American, he felt it as strongly as ever.

“Jesse, I--”

“Hush now, gorgeous,” the cowboy soothed, the hand on Hanzo's backside trailing up to wrap over his shoulder. The hand gripping Peacekeeper picked up its pace, working the slick metal barrel in and out of Hanzo with quick, fluid strokes.

Hanzo grunted and rocked back hard, meeting Jesse thrust for thrust. His muscles were contracting, his balls tightening with his impending release. He was so close, _so close_ , that even the simmering self-hatred lurking beneath the surface of his consciousness simply fueled the blinding desperation searing like fire in his loins.

“God, Jesse, p-please… Pull it. Pull the trigger. Oh, f-fuck… Jesse…!”

_Fuck me. Hurt me. Kill me. Take my life._

_Please._

Jesse couldn't pinpoint just what made him do it. He wanted to believe it was the way Hanzo begged him. It had been that breathless, broken voice that wove and wound its way straight into his heart, leaving him no choice but to grant his beautiful lover his every wish. But that was a lie. Jesse was a grown man. He knew right from wrong, and he _knew_ how much of a monumentally stupid idea it was to let his finger anywhere near Peacekeeper’s trigger while her muzzle was buried almost stock-deep inside his lover.

But he ignored his better instincts. He made his choice, because the danger of it turned him on in ways nothing else could.

The trigger clicked, and Hanzo's world shattered.

Jesse felt the archer’s body jerk with a choking gasp, watched slack-jawed when Hanzo slumped forward, boneless, face buried in his arms. And the tiny, wet hiccup that caught in Hanzo's throat told Jesse everything he needed to know - that somehow, something had gone horribly wrong.

It didn't matter that the gun had been empty. The simple sound of the hammer striking the pin was a wicked brush with fate that tore Hanzo's mind in two. 

He never felt Jesse remove the gun from his body. He never felt the strong arms that gathered him close as tears streamed down his cheeks, falling one after another from wide open eyes that stared into nothing.

He wasn't dead, but he was gone all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: The ending has been updated for clarity as of Oct. 13, 2016! In summary: Jesse pulling the trigger caused Hanzo to go from deep subspace to mental breakdown. It created an extremely intimate confrontation with mortality in his mind that he simply wasn’t able to handle. 
> 
> ~
> 
> For more fics, drabbles, WIP updates, etc. follow me at [khateeah.tumblr.com](http://khateeah.tumblr.com).


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